


Not The Usual

by monaboyd_archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-02-09
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 18:33:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4447178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monaboyd_archivist/pseuds/monaboyd_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Exhibitionist!Dombilleh. Fun stuff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Shirasade: this story was originally archived at the Monaboyd.net Archive, which was closed in September 2014 due to software issues and a lack of new submissions for several years . To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in October 2014. I e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact me using the e-mail address on the Monaboyd.net Archive collection profile.

They decide to eat in a larger restaurant that serves steak and chicken and a particular kind of seasoned roast that Billy knows Dom likes. It's not their usual sort of place - small and quiet with ethnic food - but big and bustling. Especially on a Friday night like this. There are at least three rooms full of booths and tables with maroon tablecloths. The whole place is dimly lit, with romantic candles on each table, but it is still big and bustling. Nearly every table is filled. Billy isn't quite sure why they decide to eat at this restaurant tonight. Maybe it's just for variety, or one of Dom's crazily spontaneous ideas. But he really doesn't care where they go anymore, because with Dom, any place was good.

They are trying to be incognito, which isn't too hard this time because it's LA and there are always lots of people around, well-known and not-so-well-known, and people who look like they should be well-known but really aren't. And since this is just a night out at a decent restaurant, they don't need to wear anything fancy. Just a t-shirt and jacket for Billy - and the same for Dom, but he thinks it looks decidedly better on Dom because Billy can hardly stop looking at him. Well, maybe that has nothing to do with the clothes.

The waitress finally finds them a table after twenty minutes of standing in the lobby. They follow her to the second room, the biggest, booths lining the walls and tables filling up most of the floor space so it is hard to thread through without tripping on someone's jacket or chair leg. Their table is right in the center of the room. Billy smiles a little and holds out Dom's chair for him to sit down. Dom smiles right back, keeping his eyes on Billy's as he sits. The waitress studiously avoids looking at them after that. Dom's wearing his eyeliner again. Billy doesn't bother hide his grin; he is sure it was on purpose. He sits in the chair just to the right of Dom's. It's too crowded here for them to be heard if they sit across the table from each other.

"Did you have anything in mind tonight?" Billy asks, picking up his menu. Dom peers at Billy from over his own menu and holds his gaze. Billy blinks once. Grey eyes, melty and stormy and sultrydark with something that makes Billy flutter. And Dom is smiling, because he sees the flutter.

"Maybe...I don't know; something not the usual." They both know they're not talking about food. Billy flutters again, and Dom touches his tongue to the top of his lip, as if in thought. Billy watches as Dom looks back down at the menu. "Did you choose a dish yet?"

"No; I was thinking maybe the fried fish," Billy replies, but his eyes aren't on the menu.

Dom leans over in his seat, peering over Billy's shoulder at the open menu. One arm encircles Billy's waist, seemingly to help Dom steady himself as he's half-out of his chair. "I'm in a mood for dessert," Dom murmurs. His arm is warm; with his other, he flips the menu to the back page. "They have strawberry shortcake." His breath tickles Billy's ear, more fluttery and warm and wet - no, that's Dom's tongue, flicking out to taste the tip of Billy's ear.

Billy blinks again. "Um," he says, articulate as usual. "Strawberry shortcake. Sure, sounds good to me." Dom is definitely in a mood for something that's 'not the usual'. Hot wetness enfolds his earlobe - God, Dom is _sucking_ on it. Flick of his tongue, and then Dom sits up. Withdraws his arm from Billy's waist, calmly folds his hands on the tabletop and sits in his own chair. Not touching Billy at all. His ear tingles a bit as air wafts across the dampness there. Dom's lips are redder, his eyes darker. Billy lets out a shaky breath, all too aware of Dom's serene gaze.

"Yeah," Dom says slowly, unhurriedly, like he's tasting the word and rolling it around on his tongue to get the flavor, and finds it delectable. Billy swallows and shifts in his seat. God, they're in the middle of a restaurant. Dom sees the swallow-and-shift, and he smiles. Runs his tongue along his lips, sits lower in his seat with his legs wide apart. And Billy can't help but swallow and shift again, because Dom always knows how to make it so he squirms against his jeans and stares at Dom like there's nothing else in the world. And Dom will have him begging and whimpering and moaning for it in the end, Billy knows, and it might be later tonight or tomorrow morning or even here at the restaurant, in a stall in the men's restroom.

Dom just looks at Billy with those eyeliner-rimmed eyes. Dom moves a hand from the tabletop, rests it on his thigh for a moment, then he's idly tracing circles on his jeans and Billy can do nothing but watch. Swallow-shift. He's staring in Dom's lap for God's sake, but right now he doesn't care if anyone sees him blatantly eyeing his mate's crotch.

A throat is discreetly cleared. "Are you ready to order?" And Billy jerks his eyes up to the waitress and his menu with a flush. Maybe he does care. But Dom's hand is still moving, even as Dom says something to the waitress. And Billy's not listening because Dom's hand has crept over to his own lap - God - and Dom's palm is pressing down _hard_. Billy sucks in a breath all too audibly and he thrusts forward against Dom's hand. Friction, oh God, Dom's pressing back harder and Billy's eyes are closed and his head's tilted back and he's breathing hard. He thrusts again, his hips rising off the chair.

But Dom's hand is suddenly _gone_ , and Billy whimpers before he knows it. He opens his eyes. The waitress is still there, notepad and pen in her hand, mouth half-open as she tries to look anywhere else, face red. Billy flushes too. Dom's just smiling pleasantly at the waitress. Billy is hot, aching, and already he wants Dom's hand back so he can thrust again and grind against the tight friction of his jeans, right here in the middle of a busy restaurant with people all around and servers going back and forth.

"Yes, that'll be all," Dom says to the waitress, and she quickly turns and leaves. "I ordered a plate of strawberry shortcake," Dom tells Billy matter-of-factly. "With extra whipped cream." His expression is perfectly innocent, but his eyes whisper of sin and lust.

"Dom," whispers Billy shakily. He can hear the heated desire in his own voice. He means to ask just what Dom thinks he's doing, here in the middle of a crowded room, trying to drive him insane? But Dom doesn't let him speak. Dom just leans over again and touches his lips to Billy's. It's just a light brush, but it's so warmsoft and wet and tastes like Dom. Flicker, flutter, Dom's tongue nudges Billy's lips and darts inside. Billy grips the table with his hands, and moans softly around Dom's tongue. Their lips aren't always touching, just Dom's tongue darting and fluttering between them.

A gasp comes from somewhere; people are obviously noticing the young male couple tonguing in the middle of the room. Billy doesn't care, and he knows Dom's enjoying it. Billy wants more; this flutterflickering isn't enough. He sucks Dom's tongue in further and bites a little as he presses forward. Wet-hot, God, Billy wants Dom's hand back _there_ and not just his mouth _here_. Or his mouth there. Billy whimpers against Dom's mouth as he thinks of Dom sucking him off under the table here.

But - no, what's he doing - Dom is pulling away, leaving Billy panting and still wanting. This time Dom's showing it too; a bit flushed and breathless, his lips parted and tongue just touching his lower lip. "Not yet," Dom says softly, and runs a hand through his hair. Billy doesn't say anything, just looks at Dom, because he knows anything he says by now will be incoherent, inappropriate, or both. He wants Dom.

He hears footsteps coming nearer. It's the waitress; Billy turns and sees her coming with a single plate nearly overflowing with strawberries and shortcake and whipped cream. Billy looks at Dom, who now has a smirk on his face as the plate is put down in front of him. The waitress still assiduously does not look straight at Billy or Dom. As she leaves, Dom dips his finger in the whipped cream and swirls it around. Brings up a finger covered in whipped cream, and looks at it like he's considering something. Billy's breath hitches as Dom raises the finger to his mouth and licks the whipped cream off it, slowly dragging his tongue up; then Dom's mouth closes over his finger and he sucks the whipped cream off it. Billy is breathing fast and short, now. God, that tongue, that mouth, that _finger_.

Dom dips his finger again, and this time pulls it out with some strawberry juice dripping off the end too, coloring the whipped cream a pale pink on his finger. "Suck this," Dom murmurs. Billy tries to breath. He bends forward, arms resting on the tabletop, and takes Dom's finger into his mouth. Cool cream, threaded with the bright strawberry, and Dom's finger underneath as he sucks and licks. They're being blatant here, but Billy doesn't want to care. Giving Dom's finger a blowjob.

Dom pulls his finger out, maddeningly, and reaches for a fork. Oh. A fork, that's what you're supposed to use to eat strawberry shortcake. Billy looks at Dom with pleading eyes, because he wants Dom now. Not after they eat, back at the house when Billy's insane with desire. He's already insane with it.

Dom scoops up some shortcake on his fork, and eats it. Calmly, again, like Billy isn't next to him panting and wanting. Billy watches Dom eat another bite, and another, and wants to surreptitiously sneak a hand down. God, he won't survive this if Dom just keeps eating so serenely. Billy keeps his hands on the table, silently desiring and fluttering.

Dom pokes the fork into a strawberry, and offers the handle to Billy. "Have some shortcake," he says cheerfully. "It's good." Billy's eyes flicker to Dom's, and back to the strawberry-on-a-fork. He takes the fork and pulls the strawberry off the fork with his teeth. And just when he's nodding, enjoying the juicysweet strawberry, he sees Dom move his chair closer, turn it, until their knees bump. Billy swallows the strawberry.

"Dom, I want you now." Billy's voice comes out unsteadily; quiet, forceful. He shifts forward on his chair until he's pressing forward into Dom's knee, pressing and panting and staring into Dom's eyes as he slowly grinds against Dom's knee. God, he needs Dom. Now.

Dom isn't unaffected. Not this time. His eyes darken again, and he pulls his chair back. Scoots it back to where it was so they're not sitting so far out and the tablecloth is hanging down. "I'm going to make you beg for it," Dom promises in a low murmur. Billy squirms against his jeans. Here, in the restaurant. Among a room full of people. God. Billy doesn't think he'll last long.

Dom's stroking his thigh under the table, and with his other hand holding the fork and taking another bite of strawberry shortcake. There's whipped cream at the corner of his mouth. Billy leans forward and licks it off before he knows what he's knowing, before he remembers that they're supposed to be discreet if they don't want to be kicked out of the restaurant.

It's moving, Dom's hand is moving up, fingers brushing across Billy's fly. Billy groans softly at the agonizingly light touch. More, harder, he wants it now. Dom. "Touch me, Dom, oh God please just touch me, Dommie..." He's begging now, and Dom's hardly touched him at all. Dom's fingers play against the front of Billy's jeans. Pant, gasp, short fast breaths.

Then Dom abandons the fork and the strawberry shortcake, and flicks open the button on Billy's jeans.

"Please Dom..." he whispers again. Dom's fingers find the zipper and drag it down. The sound is loud to Billy's ears; there is a momentary lull in the noise of the restaurant at that moment. God.

"Everyone will know that I'm going to bring you off here under the table," Dom whispers. "Everyone will be able to see you moan and thrust here, and they'll know what I'm doing. They'll see you needing and wanting, Billy." God, he's getting so hard listening to Dom's low voice in his ear. "You're a fucking exhibitionist, Billy. Shameless." Dom laughs softly. And his hand slides under Billy's boxers and closes around Billy's cock. Billy arches, pushing into Dom's hand and panting shallowly.

Dom's hand strokes slowly, too slowly because Billy wants it hard and rough and loud, and yes, he is shameless now. "Harder," he growls, and thrusts again. Billy's head is thrown back against the chair, and he feels fire racing through him. Dom squeezes, jerks him and twists until Billy is groaning and just wants to thrust harder, harder, wants fling Dom over the table and fuck him senseless except he knows they'll be kicked out if he tries that here. So he digs his fingers into the side of the chair as Dom grips him under the table, hard pulling strokes, and Billy pushes harder against Dom's hand.

Then Dom stops, right as he's hanging on the edge, gasping, alight with need and desire. Dom looks Billy in the eye, dark storm-grey into green. "Dom," Billy pleads, so hard under the restaurant table that he's ready and wanting and _dying_ here. "Please Dom...God, Dom, please..." He can get no more coherent. So Dom smiles wickedly, and moves his hand again. Pressing, gripping, long hard strokes. And Billy is gasping, almost shouts but remembers he's in public. He's coming, under the eyes of strangers and restaurant waiters, coming under the table from Dom's hand, here where everyone can see him moaning and flushed with desire.

He's breathing hard still, but God, now he's floating. Billy sits up in his chair, zips his jeans with a satisfied grin that he shares with Dom. "Fucking exhibitionist," Dom purrs.

"Would you like to take home what you didn't finish?" asks the waitress. Her eyes are fixed on the far wall, and a faint blush colors her face.

Dom looks at Billy. They both look at the shortcake, the strawberries and the piled whipped cream. "Absolutely," Billy answers.


	2. Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the restaurant.

They wait for a taxi on the sidewalk just outside the restaurant. Billy, still floating, leans on Dom because he doesn't think he can stand upright by himself yet without falling over. He rests his head on Dom's shoulder and looks up at the sky. A yellow-orange streetlight burns in the corner of his vision, so all he sees is black night and the tops of buildings. Dom has an arm around Billy's waist to steady him, and Billy doesn't mind at all. It's comforting, warm. He wraps his arm around Dom's waist too. There, now they're a proper couple.

Billy breathes into Dom's neck. Sticks his tongue out and licks Dom, just because he can. A warm breeze brushes past, ruffling their hair. "Taste like Dom," Billy murmurs into Dom's neck. He loves the after, when he's just drifting and warm and filled with something flutterysoft.

"Love you too," Dom says quietly. His fingers hook into the belt loops of Billy's jeans, pulling him closer until they're all but wrapped around each other. Savouring it together. Billy moves his cheek against Dom's. He can feel Dom breathing near his ear, can feel the little wispy breaths float past.

A taxi pulls up to the curb, screeching a bit as it comes to a halt in front of them. Dom shifts their box of strawberry shortcake in his arm and slides in the taxi, pulling Billy in too by his belt loops. The seats are grey, fuzzy and worn from hundreds of people sitting on them, and one of the seatbelts dangling on the side has at least five twists in it. As soon as Billy closes the door, the taxi starts forward, and Dom tells the driver where they're going. Elijah's house is at least half the city away from here, and with Friday night Los Angeles traffic, it might be a while. Billy curls up against Dom and licks his neck again.

The box of shortcake is carefully set on the floor, out of the way, then Dom has his arms around Billy and he's brushing his lips against Billy's. Softly and gently at first, light like his breath was on Billy's ear, then pressing harder and flicking his tongue out too. Dom's hands are moving, stroking Billy's sides as his mouth takes Billy's lower lip and nibbles a little. Even though he's still floating after the handjob in the restaurant, Billy can't help but respond. Dom's tongue is like that.

He grips a handful of Dom's shirt, clinging and pulling himself closer. Dom sucks on his lip, drags it between his teeth until Billy can feel the throbbing. He sighs against Dom's mouth. Tongue, mouth, oh. Nice. Dom's tongue shoves into Billy's mouth and they're pressed back against the seat of the taxi now, attacking each other's mouths. Dom is devouring Billy like he's that strawberry shortcake.

Drawing back a little to catch his breath, Billy loosens his grip on Dom's shirt and looks him full in the eyes. His face is half in shadow, and half illuminated by car headlights and a dim streetlight. Lips parted and wet, eyes dark with desire. "Beautiful," Billy murmurs. He wants more of Dom, wants to take him here in the backseat of the taxi, even though he's just had some in the restaurant not fifteen minutes ago. Dom's like that.

"I know," Dom says. A smile curls on his face, and for a moment Billy thinks Dom can read his thoughts. Dom leans against the door of the taxi, half-sprawled on the seat. He slowly runs his tongue along his lip, teasingly, because he knows that Billy's watching his every move. "Not yet." And he _wiggles_ in his seat, arms above his head against the taxi window, just kind of moves his hips so that Billy has to shift. God. The eyeliner around Dom's eyes makes him dark and sultry. "You'll wait..." Dom murmurs. A promise.

So Billy sits on his side of the seat, just looking at Dom. Hungrily. He's not supposed to touch now; he has to wait and watch as Dom leans casually against the window. Dom knows what he's doing to Billy. The leather bands on Dom's wrists glint dully in the glow of streetlights; Billy swallows, and wants to take hold of those leather bands and pull Dom hard against him. There's only the noise of the taxi and traffic.

When they reach the house, Billy stumbles out on the sidewalk after Dom. He licks his lips, tasting Los Angeles air and the faint taste of Dom. He's just a shadowed shape under the streetlight now, glowing around the edges with a box of strawberry shortcake in his arm. Billy follows. Have to get in the house, and then, then he can tackle Dom to the floor and attack him with hands and tongue.

The house is dark. The eyeliner makes Dom's eyes bright in the dimness of the house, as he slips through the quiet hallway. Billy makes it as far as the kitchen, trailing after Dom and the leftover shortcake. Wants him now, because Billy's been waiting the whole drive back. Dom's at the counter, doing something with the box, when Billy grips Dom's shoulders and turns him around to take his mouth. Warmhot lips, tongue, moving, and Billy makes a noise deep in his throat as he pushes Dom backwards.

Dom laughs breathlessly against Billy. "Too eager," he murmurs into Billy's mouth, and maddeningly draws away. "Close your eyes." Dom's voice is a low purr. Billy closes his eyes, even though it's dark in the house and he can hardly see anyways. "Turn around," Dom commands softly. And Billy turns around. He puts his hands on the round kitchen table and waits in the dark. He can feel Dom breathing, Dom's breath light and fluttery on his neck.

Arms around his waist, reaching and deftly unbuttoning his jeans. Billy swallows, and resists pushing up into the touch. The zipper grates down, loud in the dark of the kitchen. Billy squeezes his eyelids together as Dom takes hold of his belt loops - then Dom pulls his jeans and boxers down. Billy bites the inside of his cheek and tries not to whimper. He stands there, shirt on, jeans around his ankles and desperately trying to stand still and not press forward against the table.

Dom's fingers trace over his backside in small circles, teasingly light. Not touching Billy where he wants to be touched. "Dom..." he whispers. He's not begging yet, though. Dom's fingers are gone, then his hands pull Billy's wrists to hold them against his back.

Billy is breathing harshly, so audible in the absence of sight. Dom is gripping his wrists with one hand, and the other strokes Billy's cheek. He can feel the leather around Dom's wrist. "Suck this," Dom says for the second time that night, pushing his fingers into Billy's mouth. So Billy sucks, licks, slicking Dom's fingers with his mouth and tongue.

Then Dom's fingers are withdrawing, sliding out of Billy's mouth wetly. He moans softly and feels Dom's steady grip restraining his wrists. Just a ghostly-light whisper of a touch as a warning, and suddenly Dom's fingers are thrust into him. "Ohhhh Dom..." Fingers push deeper, and this time he cries out and jerks and tries to move on Dom's fingers. "...godDompleasemygodohfuckplease..."

Dom's fingers pull out, leaving Billy with a breathless moment of emptiness, then he thrusts his cock into Billy and Billy hardly has air enough to breath. He's gasping something out incoherent; now he's begging for it, because he's hot and hard with Dom filling him and _not moving_ and waiting. Dom expels a breath that brushes across heated skin, then he thrusts his hips and pushes Billy down over the table. Billy's forehead is pressed into the cold wood and his wrists are twisted behind him, and Dom's pressing up against him and _ohgodhe'smoving_ and Billy groans and pushes back. Harder, faster, Dom thrusts into Billy hard and fast as they slide sweatslick against each other. Billy's just crying and moaning as Dom fucks him into the table and Billy's own cock is pushed against the edge.

And Dom reaches around and grips Billy hard, pulls with the same rhythm he's pounding; and then they're shoutingshuddering together, whimpering and coming inside Billy and on the table in Dom's hand. They're panting, trying to breathe again. Billy has no words. Dom pulls out and lets go of Billy's wrists, and Billy slowly stands straight. "Billy..." Dom murmurs, brushes his fingers against Billy's cheek and kisses him softly.

Billy's standing in a dark kitchen backed up against a hard wood table, jeans around his ankles and with a similarly half-naked Dom in his arms. He's glowing and happy and warm. Because Dom's kissing him.


End file.
